


Rituals

by Erestorandfin



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28941810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erestorandfin/pseuds/Erestorandfin
Summary: He’s never late, predictably exactly on time for this habit of ours.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 27
Kudos: 54





	Rituals

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Mary S for the stellar Beta as always!

He’s never late, predictably exactly on time for this habit of ours.

I check the time, and know he will be here any moment. His rapping on the door comes only seconds later, and I’ve already called him in before the second knock makes contact. He has yet to miss this ritual despite the fact that each time, it becomes harder for us both to deal with, knowing that the meaning behind our words has only deepened since the last time, and yet the outcome is always the same.

The answer must always remain the same.

We eat in comfortable silence, as though we are both caught in thoughts of tomorrow, of all the things that could go right, but more likely, of all the things that could go wrong. But the reality is that we both know our thoughts are only of each other, of the conversation - if it can be called that, brief as it is - we are about to replay.

“Kathryn.”

His voice is so calm, soothing the tension that has been building since he arrived. There are many things that get me through the long days, the things that make life out here more than merely endurable. The smell of that first cup of coffee when I wake. The triumph when a far-fetched scheme comes to fruition. The thrill when we witness a space phenomenon previously unexperienced by humans. The many achievements of my crew, their milestones, their joy. But the thing I covet more than any other is the sound of him saying my name. Fascinated by how his tongue wraps around it, making it seem so sensuous, his warmth and love thick in his words. I unconsciously release a sigh, both longing for and dreading this.

Our eyes meet, and I almost can’t bear the love I see, the optimism unsullied by our repeated failure; somehow, he has never lost hope. If only I could have as much conviction. But as much as this ritual, this bond between us scares me, I know it will restore some of my own faith, and for a short while, I can borrow his hope, believing that perhaps this time, the dream we both share will end without me having to let it return to him once more as I release it in defeat.

“Kathryn. I love you.”

All I can give him in return is my silence. But he understands; he expects nothing more than my curt nod of acknowledgement, and the brief, and seemingly unintentional, brushing of my fingers over his hand as it rests on the table. 

I used to think this was something he just had to do, that it was simply too much to hold inside. But at some point, I realised he was doing it for me, to reassure me that nothing has changed, that no matter what has happened since the last time, his love is still mine, unconditionally. My pulse is racing now, somehow both strengthened by his words and yet uncontrollably weakened as I try not to imagine how it could be between us, if only circumstances were different. Trying to prepare myself for the way this always ends.

“Marry me.”

Despite my preparation, knowing exactly what is coming, my breath catches as it always does, and I have to force myself to look away before my resolve shatters, before he can see the tears I barely hold back. More than anything, I want to say yes, but I can’t and he knows it, he always knows, but he asks every time. Each time, the thrill of excitement and hope becomes smaller as my worry grows that this might be the last time he asks, the last time before his own hope fails and he is lost in the sea of despair where I so often find myself adrift.

I give the answer I always give, the one he is expecting, though not the one either of us wants.

“If it works. If we get home tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying to challenge myself to move out of my comfort zone with my writing. For this piece, my challenge was to write in first person, which I have never done before. It's very scary! Hopefully the story elements still come across :) Please let me know what you think!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Star Trek: Voyager and all its characters belong to Paramount Pictures/CBS; no infringement of copyright is intended.


End file.
